narritiveA Poem by bikergirl3636im wanting to do a final copy!!
“Push,
1….2….3,” the doctor said in a harsh, yet calm, voice. I gave one more push,
and I
heard a tiny cry. It sounded so small and so terrified. I
reached out with my arms to grasp the tiny
little bundle that was now swaddled in a blanket. I closed
my eyes and sharply took in a breath of air
trying to relax my stiff legs and quiver arms, but it was a
futile attempt. The shuffling of the doctor’s
light blue feet covers made me open one eye and glanced
around the room and up to the celling, the
overhead bright white light made me feel like I was on an
alien ship; Abducted to an unfamiliar world.
“Want me to
put her down for you?” the Doctor asked
“yes,” I
shuddered
I glanced over at my husband. He was passed out on the
Hospital chair, kind of how our relationship was
in a deep slumber. Nothing had been the same since my first
miscarriage. I closed my eyes again as the
doctor left. Five minutes later the sound of a little
delicate cry grabbed my attention and
I pulled myself from partial sleep. I stiffly sat up and
swung my bare legs out of the stiff bed and on to
the wintery cold floor. I peered over the little plastic
crib on to the most beautiful tiny face that was
staring back at me with the biggest bluest eyes I have ever
seen. If you could take a piece of the sky
and put it into a jar that would be as close as you could
get. I delicately pulled her to my chest and
climbed back in to bed. I had this felt this weird feeling
of not really knowing or understanding what I
was supposed to do with this tiny baby, but my body moved
subconsciously. I began rubbing her
face till her blue eyes closed. I had no idea how things at home
and my relationship with my husband
would change for better and for worse. An overwhelming sleep
took over.
A few
months had passed and still that feeling of not knowing what to do, but just
doing had
become a normal part of me fitting into the category of
“Mom.” I knew that my outside relationships
with my husband were falling, yet I couldn’t find the
strength to care. I was too tired, too worn out to
care. Some nights I would go into the nursery and just sleep
on an air mattress just to be with my
daughter, who I named Lilly. I knew that my attachment to my
daughter was somewhat due to the
miscarriage I had suffered before. Lilly and I did
everything together. I rollerbladed to get back in shape
and take her with me in her stroller. Finally I was getting the hang of a normal
life with my daughter but
oh lord help the poor soul who would try to take us apart. Even something
as little as feeding, I wanted
to do it!
By the time
she turned 2, I was getting divorced. I decided I wanted to try and give Lilly
some
distance from me. Not only that, but I had to because I was
no longer going to be with her 24/7.
According to the court papers she would have to spend nights
away from me. I was going to have to get
a full time job to support us. Not too long after that, one
job turned into two jobs. I tried to see her
more but I felt so distant from her like I was drifting away,
reaching and grabbing for her but she was just
out of reach. The only time I saw her was at night, but I
was so tired I couldn’t be there for her like I
wanted to be. I missed my little Lilly bug I had to find a
way of this madness, after all what’s money
worth if you can’t see who you love? Quitting my jobs was
the only way I could be there for her. I
never wanted to be a day care mom, dropping her kids off
like a piece luggage dropped for convenience.
The option to go back
to school came up. I grabbed it and hung on tighter than the Pope holds on to a
Bible. My daughter is
almost three now. I know that whatever the future holds, I will always find a
way to be there for her. We will always be close in the same
way we were when she was born.
© 2014 bikergirl3636Author's Note
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StatsAuthorbikergirl3636COAboutHi There reader I'm Laura I'm 25 years old I am dyslexic, but have the most amazing talent for ideas and for writing even tho my spelling is not the best, consider it a challenge to understand me but.. more..Writing
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